The Big Money Question at the Sanders-Clinton Debate

From the debate’s first moments, Sanders spoke about how “big money controls the political process.” Given Clinton’s résumé, that is as much to say that big money controls her.

PHOTOGRAPH BY DAVID GOLDMAN / AP

"People support me because they know me. They know my life’s work," Hillary Clinton said on Thursday night, at the Democratic Presidential debate in Durham, New Hampshire, as an exchange with Senator Bernie Sanders grew steadily more tense. First they had argued about whether it was proper to call Clinton a progressive, or whether, as Clinton said, Sanders, with his list of progressive positions, covering his opposition to everything from the death penalty (which Clinton supports) to super PACs (she has one), had made himself “the self-proclaimed gatekeeper for progressivism.” She added, “I don't know anyone else who fits that definition, but I know a lot of really hard-fighting progressives in the Democratic Party." The not-so-implicit charge, that Sanders talked himself up and talked down to the people who actually did the work—especially to a person named Clinton—was a response that she deployed throughout the debate. She variously called Sanders's critical positions "amusing," "unfair," and a "smear.” Sometimes, that tactic was effective; her defense of her progressiveness made for a strong opening. It worked least well, though, when she talked about money, particularly the money that Wall Street gave her.

From the first moments of the debate, Sanders spoke, as he often does, about how “big money controls the political process in this country.” Given Clinton's résumé, that is as much to say that big money controls her—Clinton, at least, seems to hear it that way. Thursday’s debate was where she began to take that logic personally and to push back. "Time and time again, by innuendo, by insinuation, there is this attack that he is putting forth, which really comes down to, you know, anybody who ever took donations or speaking fees from any interest group has to be bought," Clinton said. MSNBC, which hosted the debate, made use of a split screen showing both candidates—this was the first debate with only two, since Martin O'Malley has dropped out—and Sanders, turning to her, raised his eyebrows.

Clinton continued, "And I just absolutely reject that, Senator. And I really don't think these kinds of attacks by insinuation are worthy of you. And enough is enough. If you've got something to say, say it directly." She had more to say first, though: she had never changed a view, nor a vote, because of money—now Sanders was trying to interrupt her—and had represented her constituents. "So I think it's time to end the very artful smear that you and your campaign have been carrying out.

"Oooohhhh," Sanders said, and suddenly looked ready to fight. Some in the crowd applauded, and some booed, though for whom, in each case, wasn't so clear. Each candidate spoke over the other, demanding that the other "talk about the issues" (a phrase that, together, they used eight times in a nanosecond). Clinton managed to throw in a defiant "I want to reverse Citizens United!" before Sanders got the floor.

"Let's talk about why, in the nineteen-nineties, Wall Street got deregulated," Sanders said, referring, not coincidentally, to the period of Bill Clinton's Presidency. "Did it have anything to do with the fact that Wall Street provided—spent billions of dollars on lobbying and campaign contributions? Well, some people might think, yeah, that had some influence." He offered the same conclusion about the pharmaceutical industry shaping legislation on prescription-drug prices, and the Koch brothers on climate change: "Do you think there's a reason why not one Republican has the guts to recognize that climate change is real?" There was, he said, "a reason why these people are putting huge amounts of money into our political system."

Clinton replied that, often, the reason was their opposition to her. "I don't think you could find any person in political life today who has been subjected to more attacks and had more money spent against her by special interests, among whom you have named a few, than I. And I'm proud of that." And then, before taking a swipe at Sanders for a vote he made fifteen years ago that had loosened certain derivatives regulations ("I'm not impugning your motives"), she threw in a line that is the nub of her defense and, in many ways, of her entire campaign: "I know this game. I'm going to stop this game."

Clinton, who has been searching for ways to attack Sanders without alienating his supporters, seems to have fixed on the idea that there is something dishonest, rather than aspirational, in Sanders’s talk of initiating a “political revolution” to upend a corrupt system—his plans to change the tax system, introduce “Medicare for all,” and make public colleges free. “I'm not making promises that I cannot keep,” she said. And, “Let's go down a path where we can actually tell people what we will do. A progressive is someone who makes progress.”

Earlier this week, Anderson Cooper, of CNN, asked Clinton about six hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars in speaking fees that she had received from Goldman Sachs. She said, "That's what they offered," and shrugged. On Thursday, when Rachel Maddow, one of the moderators, mentioned that many voters were concerned about the fees, Clinton switched from talking about the unknowability of Goldman's motives to the knowability of her own. "Well, you know, Rachel,” she said, “I think I may not have done the job I should in explaining my record." Once she had, and people understood what a fighter for ordinary people she was, it would be fine. As for the speaking fees, everybody did it—“so many former officials, military leaders, journalists, others." That is true; it is also, in a way, Sanders's point. Later, when Chuck Todd, the other moderator, brought the subject up again, she said, "My view on this is, look at my record. Look at what I am proposing."

As the subject moved to foreign policy, Sanders was strongest when he did focus on her record: in particular, on her vote in favor of the war in Iraq, which he opposed. In other areas, he seemed less in control. Asked about Afghanistan, he turned the discussion to ISIS. Clinton smiled as he spoke; she had a detailed answer. When Todd noted that Sanders hadn't given a major foreign-policy speech, Sanders said, "I did give a speech, at Georgetown, where I talked about democratic socialism and foreign policy. Maybe I shouldn't have combined the two in the same speech, because the foreign-policy part of it didn't get much attention." (Remarkably, this was the only mention of socialism in the entire debate.) The Sanders doctrine came down to "we cannot continue to do it alone." Clinton suggested that, on foreign policy, too, Sanders didn’t understand “the way it works.”

Early in the debate, speaking of the many endorsements that Clinton had received from elected Democratic officials, Sanders said that she had "the entire establishment, or almost the entire establishment, behind her." This set up one of Clinton's more interesting objections. "Honestly, Senator Sanders is the only person who I think would characterize me, a woman running to be the first woman President, as exemplifying the establishment," she said. Clinton is right that electing a woman President would be transformative. In that sense, it would be wrong to say that she exemplified the status quo. But, if Clinton thinks that no one but Sanders could see her, a former First Lady and Secretary of State whose diplomatic, corporate, and political contacts are unmatched as part of an, if not the, establishment, she may not know herself so well, either. (Toward the end of the debate, she said, “I was very flattered when Henry Kissinger said I ran the State Department better—better than anybody had run it in a long time.”)

One difficulty for Clinton is that many of the voters who are drawn to Sanders—and to Donald Trump—do not believe that you can simply look at voting records and public pronouncements and understand what is going on in Washington, or in America generally. They have questions about what donors want, and may not see such inquiries as outrageous, like Clinton does. She is walking a fine line by arguing that money has a baleful influence in politics generally but has left her, personally, unaffected—Clintonian exceptionalism.

Clinton passed when she was asked, toward the end of the debate, whether she believed that Sanders, if he became the Democratic nominee, could beat the Republican. She said, “I can only tell you what I believe, and that is that I am the strongest candidate.” (In most years, the electability factor would be clearly in her favor, but it is hard to know what calculations voters might make when comparing Sanders’s poll numbers to, say, Trump’s.) Clinton said that she had respect for Sanders and was “thrilled” about his many young supporters. But there were concerns, which she had heard about from others, about how hard elections were to win and how unrelenting the spotlight could be. That wouldn’t be a problem for her, though. “I've been vetted,” Clinton said. “There's hardly anything you don't know about me.”

Amy Davidson Sorkin is a New Yorker staff writer. She is a regular Comment contributor for the magazine and writes a Web column, in which she covers war, sports, and everything in between.